Double Takes
by Ivy Leaves
Summary: Please, please, PLEASE ignore the title. Yay, me back. Isn't everyone sooooo happy? *wink* Oh, right, the story. > Senior homecoming... and they're experiencing deja vu... > They need a category for Idiocy. Anyone want to join my campaign?


Dèja Vu

Double Takes 

"Oh no."

Those two words echoed from Tyler Connell's mouth disbelievingly as he stared at the wall… or more precisely, the poster on the wall.

"Oh no what?" Hank Beecham, who was desperately trying to figure out how to conjugate the verb_ s'excuser _before the French test in two minutes, had no time to follow his best friend's eyes to the offending poster. "Oh no, Hank's going to be kicked off the honor roll if he doesn't figure this out, and he isn't going to figure this out anytime soon, so he can kiss the honor roll goodbye?" He flipped a couple of pages. "Good, here it is. Now I have to conjugate_ savoir. _Man, do you know what the past participle of_ ecrire _is?"

"Oh no," repeated Tyler. Hank suddenly realized something was wrong and looked up from the French textbook to the poster.

"Homecoming Dance, the 23rd from 7:30 to 9:30," read Hank. "Come on, Tyler, you knew that homecoming was this Saturday, didn't you?"

"I hate homecomings," Tyler informed Hank, who smiled.

"After that soap opera episode between you and Val last year, who wouldn't? I mean, dang, that was close. You could have seriously put some damage into your relationship with that. Past participle of prendre?"

"Pris," answered Tyler, choosing to ignore the rest of Hank's statement. "Je prends, tu prends, il prend, nous prenons, vous prenez, ils prennent."

"Thanks," exclaimed Hank jovially. "Indirect pronoun for him?"

"Lui," stated Tyler absent-mindedly, staring past Hank to a certain blonde and her locker. Hank looked up from scribbling notes—thankfully, it was a test you could use your notes in—to see what was distracting Tyler.

Of course, it wasn't a surprise to find that he was staring directly at Val Lanier.

"I'm going to—be right back," Tyler said, taking off across the hallway. Hank sighed.

"Whatever happened to friends over girls?" he sighed. "Pronoun for direct plural… les…or was it le? Shoot…"

*

"Does anyone actually have a date to homecoming out of us four?" Tyler asked the rest of the squad. The question was, of course, intended to find out if Val had a date, but it was a lot less awkward to ask in the guise of asking the rest… if that made sense… he wasn't sure any of his thoughts or reasons made sense, especially not lately and especially not in front of Val.

"I already signed up for staying at the station," Jamie informed him. "Caitie and I made enough of a bang last year to last us a while… though," he added, musing, "if we borrowed Melanie Chaun's car we could make a splash as well. If there was any pun with the toilet and the splash, it was intended."

"Well, at least I'm not letting her drive this time," said Hank, then immediately slammed his lips shut. "Oops."

"You're going with Melanie Chaun?" Jamie snickered. "Again? I thought you hated it last time!"

"She's not so bad," fumbled Hank. "I mean, she dresses kind of normally now, and she's nice, I guess…"

"You asked her, didn't you? She didn't ask you, you asked her!" Val crowed with a grin. "Hank likes Melanie!"

"You_ do?" _Tyler couldn't believe it. Hank hadn't_ told _him? "You didn't tell me… I mean, you know whom I like and all—" Oops. That wasn't supposed to come out.

"Ooh, who do you like?" Val leaned forward eagerly with a grin. Tyler turned bright red.

"No one," he mumbled. "And Hank, if you tell her, I'll tell everyone at school you like Melanie… including Melanie."

"Why can't I know?" inquired Val. "Hank knows."

"You're a girl. Girls talk." Oh, great. Now Val would get into her feminist mood.

"Oh, come on. I wouldn't tell anyone."

"No."

"Val, who are you going with?" Hank interrupted loudly. If he didn't help Tyler, the truth might actually get out… and that would not be good. At all.

"No one. Yet," she added as an afterthought, looking sideways at Tyler. "But I want to go, so I'll probably accept whoever asks next. I mean, if they're nice and all."

Jamie and Hank exchanged glances, then glared meaningfully at Tyler.

"So," he began uncomfortably, "you wouldn't, like, want to go, 'cause we could… I mean, if you're not going with anyone else, we could, like, go toget—"

The alarm went off; the gazes broke, awkwardly; and they ran to the ambulance.

"It always happens," Tyler muttered. "Always."

*

"So, Val, are you going to the dance?" Tyler inquired awkwardly. Two days before the dance, and of course she would have a date, but there was always hope…

Val flushed red. "Actually, Toby Renault asked me this morning, and I accepted—I mean, I didn't want to be without a date or anything." 

"The guy on the basketball team? Who thinks he's related to a car?" Great. He hadn't moved fast enough, and now the girl he liked was going with a guy who thought his relatives were made of metal.

"Yeah, that would be him," she agreed, turning even more red. "Why?"

"I was just—I mean, I would just—no reason," he lied, faking a smile. "Just wondering."

"Oh." So he wasn't going to ask her to the dance anyway, was he? He was just wondering, as a friend, if one of his friends was going… because if she didn't have a date, they could always go together and have a great time…

_Get over yourself, _she instructed herself with disgust,_ he doesn't like you… at least not in the way you like him._

_ _

_*_

_ _

"Hey, Tyler, wait up!" Becca Miller was chasing him through the hallways of the school. Even though he was late to class, Tyler sighed and slowed for the brunette. Becca was on the diving team, popular, and on the honor roll—yet another overachiever, though she wasn't always that nice.

"Yeah?"

"Well, I don't really have a date for the dance," she admitted with a small smile, "and I heard you didn't either… so you want to go together?"

Over Becca's head, Tyler's eyes caught Val, standing at her locker, talking to Toby Renault. He groaned inwardly—wasn't this exactly what had happened last year? Dèja vu…

He looked back down at Becca.

"Sure."

"Great. Pick me up at 7:30. Walk me to History," she commanded. Tyler smiled a fake smile, and, with a last look towards Val, began walking with Becca up the stairs. He didn't see Val look back at him with jealousy of Becca and longing.

_Dèja vu, dèja vu, dèja vu._

*

"So did Tyler finally ask you?" Joanne Lanier asked Val, upon the request to go shopping for a dress for homecoming.

"No. I'm going with Toby Renault."

"Car Boy?" questioned Brooke, entering the room. Val glared.

"Yes. Car Boy."

"Sheesh, I didn't say anything. I mean, heck, if you want to think your great grandfather is a Mercedes-Benz lying in a junkyard somewhere, go ahead, I won't argue."

"Look, honey, I said this last year and I still testify it today," said Joanne, ignoring her younger daughter's mumblings. "Going with the wrong guy is worse than not going at all."

"Mom, I want to be able to tell my grandchildren someday that I at least went to the senior homecoming. Especially considering I was nominated for queen," she added.

"You failed to mention that fact earlier," Joanne pointed out with a grin. "I'm not saying you shouldn't go—I'm just saying you might not enjoy it very much with the wrong guy."

"Maybe Car Boy is the right guy," said Val uncertainly.

"And maybe pigs can squawk like chickens while they fly around the green moon at night," agreed Brooke. "And maybe Tyler wants to go with Becca Miller. Yeah, that's likely."

"He's going with Becca Miller?"_ That _particular bit of information had not been mentioned to her yet.

"Yup, the first-class slut," verified Brooke.

"Brooke!" Joanne reprimanded.

"It's true," insisted Brooke. "I mean, she is…and even us middle-school kids know it… I mean, it's not like she doesn't…"

*

"Tyler, please don't wear your beeper," complained Becca. "I mean, what if it goes off while we're dancing? I could never live it down."

"I'm on call," he reminded her. "I have to wear it."_ Why do I always get stuck with the dates that can't just leave me alone about my beeper? Val would never—_

Except Val wasn't his date. So that was out of the question.

"Oh, fine," groaned Becca, as if it was her who was being faulted. Tyler decided he really did not like Becca Miller very much.

"Hey, Tyler!" The familiar voice pulled Tyler out of his reverie about how much he disliked Becca Miller. He turned around.

That was a bad idea, because that caused him to stare at her. And Val didn't need to see him staring at her. Neither did Becca. Neither did Toby Renault. Of course, with her standing there, looking completely gorgeous in an icy blue formfitting dress with thin straps that he found complete enemies because all they did was make her more beautiful, which caused him to stare at her_ more_, it was hard not to.

"You look… great," he said with a grin._ Friend, friend, friend, friend, friend, _the voice in his head chanted. "Hey, Toby."

"Hey," agreed Toby without interest. Tyler looked at him strangely and realized that Toby's tie had miniscule silver cars on it—cars so small they looked like tiny dots.

Val caught his gaze and mouthed, "He's kind of obsessed."

Tyler grinned.

"Tyler, let's go," whined Becca. "I wanna dance." Tyler shrugged.

"Later, Val."

"See you."

*

An hour later, Val and Tyler both ended up at the refreshments table, watching Becca and Toby dance.

"I think our dates really hit it off tonight, huh?" Tyler said with a grin.

"Do you like her?" Val watched his reaction closely.

"Nah, not really. She's sort of a pain in the… yeah."

That made Val smile. "Toby's a little obsessive over cars. We spent ten minutes getting into the car because he didn't want me to damage the seat. I mean, God, I'm not heavy enough so that I'll squash the seat!"

Tyler laughed. "Not nearly."

There was a long silence as they stood there, shifting feet nervously, trying to figure out if they should ask the other to dance or if the other one was going to or if they should keep talking or… what.

"You want to go outside? Like, get some air?"

"Yeah," Val said quickly. Anything to just get out of this dance and all the awkwardness of it.

They walked quickly out the door into the cool night air. Val breathed deeply.

"This feels good. The gym's all… stifling." Small talk was so much easier than deep conversations.

"Yeah, I know."

Val wandered over to a picnic table and sat down on it. Tyler followed her actions, and they sat there in silence for a few minutes before Val spoke.

"Tyler?"

"Yeah?"

"Last year, at homecoming? Were you going to ask me? I mean, did you ever consider it even the smallest bit?" Her voice was scared, as if she was about to step off of a cliff and she didn't know whether she would fly or fall.

"Yes."

"You wanted to ask me?"

"I was going to, but then Rebound Machine came up to your locker and started talking to you, and Caitie said he was asking you out, and I just assumed you'd say yes—or at least you'd be more likely to say yes to him than to me. And then Heather came up and made me walk her to History and then she asked me… and I didn't know you had turned him down. Then you got mad at me because… well, I don't know why."

"Because Caitie told me that Jamie said that Kirsten Banks said that Tommy Rondall said that…"

"When you finish this sentence, will you be all grown up?" Tyler asked, but his voice was gentle, much more so than when Val had said it a year ago. They were so close…he could kiss her if he wanted to—if she wanted him to…

"…That you asked Heather," finished Val with a smile.

"Never."

"And then…this year? Were you going to ask me?"

"Car Boy got to you first."

"Don't we all wish he had never done that? And that I had never accepted?" she inquired softly.

"I certainly do."

"Would you honestly, though, have wanted to dance with me?" She was asking so much more than what it seemed, and they both knew it.

Tyler got up and stood in front of her. "I still do. Valerie Lanier, could I have this dance?" He proffered his hand with a grin. Val smiled in return.

"Definitely."

She took his hand and stood up, letting go of his fingers to put her hands on his shoulders in a fluid motion.

"I don't think this is really music to slow dance to," Tyler admitted, listening to the band bang out chords on their guitars.

"I can't really hear the music anymore," replied Val, slowly tightening the embrace to bring them closer.

"Yeah… me neither." So close… so close… so very close… a couple moments ticked by without talking. "You know, there was sort of something besides dancing I wanted to do," he told her.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What was it?"

"This."

Slowly… slowly… it seemed like everything was slow motion as their eyes closed and they drew closer—and closer—and—

BEEP.

Their pagers went off just as their lips were literally a hair's breadth from each other. They leapt apart and stared at each other, unsure of what was going on.

"I—we—that—we should go," said Tyler, settling for that. Val nodded and followed his brisk walk to the parking lot. God, what was going on here?

*

"Where does it hurt?" Val asked the elderly woman who had apparently fallen down the stairs.

"My leg," she moaned. "I'm sorry to trouble you young ones, but it just hurts so much…" She slipped off into unconsciousness.

"Going into shock, leg broken in two places, relatively stable position," diagnosed Tyler. "Count of three, get her up. One, two, three, up!"

They slid the woman into the back of the ambulance and Jamie hopped in after the stretcher to monitor vitals.

The doors slammed shut.

*

Thud… thud… thud…

"You aren't going back to the dance?" asked Val curiously, emerging from the building to step onto the basketball court. Tyler was dribbling the ball gently on the concrete. He poised for a shot, unperturbed by Val's sudden appearance.

"Nah. I don't want to see Becca Miller again anyway." The ball swished into the hoop. "You?"

"I've heard enough about cars to last me thirty nine years…and then some," she laughed. Tyler smiled and threw her the ball.

"One-on-one?" he asked. Val shot the ball and watched it go in.

"You're just trying to avoid talking about it, you know," she informed him as he dribbled the ball.

"About what?" It bounced off the rim. Tyler turned to her, forgetting the orange ball as he took a couple of steps closer to Val.

"Earlier." She took a step towards him—but the distance was still so far.

"Earlier?" A step.

"At the dance." A step.

"Outside?" Two steps—he'd never get to her if he didn't speed up.

"Tyler, you know what I mean! Stop pretending you don't!" She stopped moving as a tear gathered in her eye. "I don't know what you thought happened, but we almost kissed… didn't we?"

Five steps and he was close enough to reach out and touch her… but he couldn't touch her. That was breaking a barrier… wasn't it?

"Yes." He swallowed. Maybe that wasn't what she wanted. Maybe he was the only one who had wanted the kiss.

"Did you—want to kiss me?" Val ventured uncertainly, taking a small step towards him so that they were essentially pressed together by invisible forces.

"Yes."

"Why?" she inquired.

"Because—I—you—because—" He couldn't finish the sentence.

"Because you felt like kissing someone? Because I was there? Because you wanted to ruin our friendship?" Val's eyes grew slightly angry. "Because your date abandoned you and you wanted someone to hang all over you?"

"Because I like you, okay? Because I've liked you for almost two years now! Because I find you incredibly and excruciatingly attractive and because you're absolutely perfect! Is that good enough or do you want me to continue?" Val was staring at him now, with complete surprise. Tyler sighed. "Just forget it, okay? I already get that you don't like me." He shook his head and began to walk away.

"Wait." Val grabbed his sleeve and turned him towards her. "I can't dance alone."

"What?" He didn't understand… did she_ want _to dance with him? Knowing that he liked her? Knowing they might end up kissing again? That meant she didn't hate him…thank God…

"Will you dance with me?"

"There's no music."

"I wouldn't be able to hear it anyway," she told him, sliding her arms around his neck for the second time that night.

"Val—"

"Shh. Don't argue," she requested, resting her head on his shoulder.

"You know I'm just going to end up kissing you, don't you?"

"Did I ever say I didn't want you to?"

"I guess if you put it that way…"

Val smiled. "Guess what?"

"What?" Their lips were so close together he could feel her breath stinging his mouth teasingly.

"I like you too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Tyler grinned and brought his lips to hers with all the softness of a spring breeze. "Told you so," he murmured, pulling away.

"I'm not resisting, am I?" she responded, reconnecting their mouths.

It felt so_ right _to be kissing her. He wanted to feel guilty because maybe he'd end up hurting her, maybe he was invading her personal space too much, but—he couldn't, not when it felt so incredibly perfect.

"You need to stop being so good at kissing," he informed her, catching his breath. Val grinned.

"That was a compliment, right?" she inquired. Tyler returned the grin.

"Oh, well, definitely."

"Good."

"Everyone's going to rub this in our faces. Us liking each other, I mean."

"Do you care what everyone thinks?"

"Not right now."

Tyler tightened his grip on Val and they danced in silence.

YAY! Suckiness! I'm back from camp, in case you hadn't noticed. FF.N is not being my friend. Is it being yours? Whoo, I'm also hyper. Bye… please review. PLEASE??? Pretty PLEEEEEEEEEASE?

---IVY


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